


Don't Let Go

by ani12



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama, F/M, Guilt, Love Confessions, Redemption, jonsa, jonsa forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 05:19:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18866527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ani12/pseuds/ani12
Summary: Jon rode hard, day and night through the unforgiving lands of Westeros. Ser Davos was quick on his heels trailing him, both looked like mad men chasing after a ghost.“A ghost” Jon though “is what I am chasing after”.





	Don't Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys,
> 
> Well here it is, my first fanfic ever. Inspiration hit me right after episode 5, it is how I envision the end to be, but alas, I know it won't. Anyway, enjoy and sorry any typos. I am in no way a professional writer.

Jon rode hard, day and night through the unforgiving lands of Westeros. Ser Davos was quick on his heels trailing him, both looked like mad men chasing after a ghost.  
  
“A ghost” Jon thinks “is what I am chasing after”.  
  
* * * * * * * * *

After the destruction of Kings Landing, Daenerys Targaryen has taken the Iron Throne. She though that it would be easy to rule with fear, she though that the Lords of Westeros would finally bend the knee to her, for they already knew what she was capable of.  
  
Daenerys summoned all the Lord and Ladies of the land. She, in particular, she had the Lady of Winterfell escorted to Kings Landing by the Unsullied, commanded by her most loyal general, Grey Worm.  
  
Lady Sansa Stark stood in front of Daenerys, regal as ever, her face a sheet of ice, divulging no emotion whatsoever.  
  
The Lords and Ladies of Westeros were packed into what was left of the Throne Room, with Sansa in the middle. Daenerys looking straight at her, her eyes were hard and lacked the shine they once held. All that remained in Daenerys Targaryen was a contorted version of the once beautiful woman.  
  
When she spoke, she spoke in a frighteningly low-pitched voice, as if all humanity had left her.  
  
“Ah, Lady Sansa, welcome” Daenerys says, “as you can see, I have taken what is my by fire and blood.”

Sansa doesn’t say anything, she just looks at the Mad Queen with disdain.  
  
“I have gather you all, to show you that I am a merciful Queen”, she says, “I have liberated the peoples of Kings Landing from the tyranny of Cersei Lannister. Rejoice! For I have saved you my Lords!”  
  
The silence was deafening, no one dared to look at the Mad Queen, except for one, Sansa.  
  
“You destroyed Kings Landing, you murdered thousands, now you gather us to witness your madness” Sansa said in a clear voice. The lords turned to face her, fear showing on their faces.  
  
“Sansa!” some one spoke from afar, they turned to see where the voice was coming from. From the shadows, a lithe figured appeared, Arya Stark.  
  
As gasps are heard through the Throne Room, the sisters share a knowing look.  
  
“Arya Stark, I was wondering where you had run-off too.” Daenerys cooly says, “We just need your brothers for it to be a family reunion”, she laughs. “No matter, I am sure that they are just fine wherever they are.”  
  
Daenerys places her sights on Sansa once more.  
  
“Sansa, you were escorted here by the Unsullied on my orders. You have conspired against the crown, you have made grave allegations against your Queen” “Bend the need and I will pardon all your transgressions” Daenerys says with a broad smile.  
  
“I beg to differ but you are not the rightfully Queen of the Seven Kingdoms” Sansa says without a drop of fear in voice.  
  
Sansa turns to face the the Lords and say “I have proof that Daenerys Targaryen is the not the rightful heir of the Iron Throne” “She is an usurper! Grand Maester, please come forward”.  
  
A frail looking man dressed in a grey gown, makes his was to where Sansa is standing. He is holding a book.  
  
Daenerys is livid, her face is full of rage, “Seize this man!” she calls out to the Unsullied, but the Unsullied do not move, “Did you not hear me?!” “Seize the man!” they do not move.  
  
She is looking for Grey Worm but he is no where in sight.  
  
“It’s true my Lords, there is another who has a higher claim, Jon Snow. The bastard son of Ned Stark” the Grand Maester says.  
  
More gasps are heard.  
  
“But he is no bastard, he is the true son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. Here is proof of the the annulment of Rhaegar’s marriage to Elia Martell and here is proof of this wedding to Lyanna Stark”, he says holding up the book.  
  
Daenerys is beside herself, “How dare you! I will have you executed!” she shouts.  
  
Sansa nods at one of the Unsullied. The Unsullied soldier takes off its helmet and Brienne’s golden hair spills out.  
  
One by one, the Unsullied soldiers remove their helmets and armor reveling underneath House Stark, House Martell, House Arryn, House Tarly, and every house of Westeros’ sigil.  
  
These men are not Unsullied, they are the soldiers that have united to claim Westeros back from the Mad Queen, the true Mad Queen.  
  
The door to Throne Room opens and the people part to make way for a curly-hair, yet-black man, dressed in Stark armor, Jon  Snow.  
  
He walked the length of the room and stops before Sansa, he gives her a small smile but she doesn’t return it. For the briefest moment, they look at one another before Sansa turns her attention to Daenerys, who is standing up from her throne, rage marring her once beautiful face.  
  
“So you’ve come to take what is mine” she says  
  
“It was never yours” Jon replies.  
  
“You’ve betrayed me” she says “you’ve deceived me, you have no honor”.  
  
All of a sudden, chaos erupts, Grey Worm has barged in with a group of Dothraki that put up fight.  
  
Soldiers from all houses draw their swords, fighting to the last breath.  
  
In the mist of all the chaos, Arya Stark makes her way to the throne, where Daenerys stands, she reaches her without much effort and plunges Needle in her heart. Jon sees this and climbs to reach them.  
  
“Arya! What did you do?” Jon asks with agitation.  
  
“I did what needed to be done”, she says with Needle still plunged in Daenerys’ lifeless form.  
  
A deafening roar is heard throughout Kings Landing, Drogon takes flight, but he doesn’t fly into Kings Landing he flies away from Westeros. They watch him disappear into the skies.  
  
“The Dragon Queen is dead!” one of the Lords exclaims!  
  
“The Dragon Queen is dead!” they all shout in unision.  
  
Jon and Arya look at the crowd, both looking for that auburn head. They don’t see it.  
  
Jon takes a step but Arya clutches his arm and says “You need to take the throne. It is your duty.”  
  
“I don’t want it, I never had” he says in hoarse voice.  
  
“You’ve never wanted it but look at what happened when you refused your birthright, don’t make the same mistake.” She says  
  
Looking at her with pleading eyes he says“Sansa…”. “She’s alright” Arya responds with certainty.  
  
“I need to talk to her… I need to explain to her why I did it” he urgently says, again trying to step down. Arya stops him “Jon, let her go”. It would have seemed as if Arya had struck him across the face.  
  
He shamelessly falls to his knees and sobs.  
  
It doesn’t matter who see’s him, who hears him. It doesn’t matter that Daenerys’ still warm body is at the foot of the throne.  
  
Jon doesn’t care who bares witness to the unbelievable pain he is experiencing. He did not think that such a pain existed.  
  
Arya holds him, and orders everyone out of the Throne Room. One by one, Lord, Ladies and soldiers alike bend the knee to Jon as they exit. One of the Vale soldiers goes up to them and takes Daenerys’ body away.  
  
Jon howls in pain, in unbearable pain. They stay like that for what seems like hours, days, weeks.  
  
He cries until there are no more tears to shed, he is a broken man.  
  
“Jon” he hears Arya say, “You love her don’t you?” she asks, “You love her not like a brother, but as a man.” she says.  
  
Jon looks at her and says, “I have always loved her.” “Everything I’ve ever done has been for her.”  
  
“I went to the Wall because of the shame I felt in loving my sister. I though it was twisted, unbecoming. I didn’t want to taint her with my sin” he says in a whisper, sitting on the floor with his back on the throne.  
  
“When she came to Castle Black, I was ready to leave the North forever. I was ready to sail East and start anew. I did not know that she was in Winterfell with that bastard.” He says.  
  
“She came riding through the gates of Castle Black, and when I saw her face, I was doomed, for I fell unconditionally and irrevocably in love with her.” He says looking at his sister’s face.  
  
Arya said nothing, she just leans into him and rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
“I love her so much I can hardly bare it” he says with fresh tears rolling down his face.  
  
“I know.” Arya says.  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
  
Sansa stands on the deck of the ship. She stares out into the sea, the warm breeze playing with her unbound hair. She closes her eyes and just feels the wind caressing her soft face, feels the warmth of sun on her too pale skin, and smells the purity of the sea.  
  
As she opens her eyes the Pyke comes into view, a small smile starts to form.  
  
Finally. She thinks, I will be at peace.  
  
The ship docks at the port and she is greeted by Yara Greyjoy.  
  
“Your grace” Sansa begins to bow but Yara stop her and says “Sansa Stark, you bow to no one”.  
  
They embrace, however strange it may seem, for they share the pain of losing their brother, Theon.  
  
“Thank you for receiving me at your home” Sansa says.  
  
“There is no need to thank me, this is your home, for however long you wish.” Yara says.  
  
They make their way to the Castle, Brienne close behind them.  
  
The day is clear and bright, the cliffs are bathed in green, untouched by winter. The smell of wet grass is welcomed after the stench of fire in Kings Landing. Sansa allows herself to enjoy this small paradise. She never once though that she would come Pyke to find solace, to find, peace, to mend her broken heart.  
  
They reach the castle, as daunting as it seems from the outside, the inside is rather pleasant. Yara Greyjoy has made reparations after Euron Greyjoy took over.  
  
The main hall has had large windows added to allow light in. The mighty kraken sigil is prominent atop of the hearth that is roaring with life.  
  
Yara take her seat at the head of the table and motions for Sansa to sit next her.  
  
“I have to ask, why did you decide to come here?” Yara ask point-blank. “I though you of all people would have stayed in Kings Landing, helping you cousin, with the mess he made or would have made to Winterfell.”  
  
Sansa looks at her with surveying eyes, “His grace has more than enough advisors aiding him. He doesn’t need his insufferable cousin” she sadly says.  
  
Yara looks at her for a moment and says “I heard that the King was howling like a wolf when you left.”  
  
“You are mistaken, Jon would never do that for me” Sansa says looking at her clasped hands.  
“I suppose that all the spilt blood took a toll on him, as it did to everyone who lived through that horror.”  
  
“How did you pull it off?” Yara asks, “How did you sway the Lords of Westoros to Jon’s side?”.  
  
“By facing the truth in the face.” Sansa simply says.  
  
“When Bran told me what had happened at Kings Landing, I knew that Jon’s life was in danger. I wrote to all the Houses, big and small and sent raven throughout Westeros.” she continues.  
  
“I knew that Daenerys was going to summon all of us before long so I had to be quick.”  
  
“With the help of Samwell Tarly, Lord Royce, Lord Glover, and Lord Manderly, I was able to write to the houses before long.”  
  
“I sent word to Arya, we set a trap for the Unsullied” Sansa looks at Yara, debating whether to tell her or not, “Let just say that my sister has a set of very specific skills that came in handy”.  
  
Sansa and Arya planned the trap with a surgical precision. Arya would play the game of faces once again but this time she would play it with Grey Worm.  
  
Sansa remembers that upon their arrival to Kings Landing, they were intersected by an Unsullied soldier, this soldier in reality was Dornish soldier, delivered an urgent message from the Mad Queen to Grey Worm, who was tasked with escorting Sansa to Kings Landing from Winterfell.  
  
The plan was to lure Grey Worm away from the Throne Room and have Arya wear his face. Once she had his face on, she commanded the Unsullied and they marched outside the gate of Kings Landing. There, Northern, Vale, Dornish, Stormland, Ironborn troops ambushed and killed the Unsullied. They took their armor and impersonated them. There were barely more then one hundred Dothraki men left, it wouldn’t be too hard to overpower them.  
  
“The plan was set. The Lords of major house sent word to the smaller houses under their command. They assembled their armies, each of them knowing full well that this was the last stand, that they were most likely marching to their death. It didn’t matter, for having a mad Targaryen on the Iron Throne was the same of death” Sansa said looking at Yara’s surprised look.  
  
“How did you manage to get the Iron Born on board without me knowing,” she asked  
  
“Apologies Lady Yara, I did not know your whereabouts. Theon, said that you had come here to reclaim the Iron Islands but I did not know who to trust. I took the liberty of assembling your army.” Sansa said with an apologetic voice.  
  
“No matter, it had to be done.” Yara said with tears welling in her eyes, “Theon would have wanted it.”  
  
They raise their wine cups in honor of Theon.  
  
“You are very clever woman, Lady Sansa, and very brave.” Yara says  
  
“I believe that you were the only that could have pulled this off…the only with enough balls to do it.” Yara says with laughter.  
  
Sansa laughs at this, the first true laugh she has had in a long time.  
  
Sansa looks out one of the vast windows and see the one of the most beautiful sunsets. It has been a long time since she sat back and appreciated the beauty of a sunset.  
  
She excuses herself and make her way to one of the cliff overlooking the sea.  
  
As she stands there, looking at the perfection of the sea, the son, she can help but to ache for Jon. Her Jon.  
  
It tore her apart when she left the Throne Room, a moon ago, knowing well that it would be  the last time she would see him.  
  
She loves him so much she can hardly breath. He is like oxygen and a poison at the same time. Coursing through her veins, burning her into smoldering embers when ever he would be near her. She clutches her heart and falls to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Howling like a wolf, lamenting all that she has lost.  
  
She had to leave him behind, she had to, for self-preservation.  
  
The days passed on like this. Day in and day out Sansa would walk out to the evergreen cliffs and just look out into the sunset. Waiting for the insurmountable pain of loving Jon to vanish, to disappear.  
  
No one knew where she was, she made sure to make Brienne and Yara swear to tell no one. She needed this time to heal from all the horror, from this love that was killing her.  
  
Yara would say nothing, she just looked at her whenever she was out by cliffs, wondering why such a lady would exile herself of the world when the world would bend to her.  
  
“Ser Brienne” Yara calls out, “tell me, why did your lady submit herself to this exile?” “She is loved by all of Westeros, she is loved by the King himself, and not as family, but as a man.” She says when Brienne looks at her with a surprised look.  
  
“You know I speak the truth.” Yara continues whistle sitting infront of the hearth, “There are whispers that King Jon has made his way throughout Westeros looking for her. It won’t be long before someone lets slip the she is here.” She says with mischief in her voice.  
  
Brienne says nothing. The ever stoic knight merely looks at Yara and gently nods and exits the hall.  
Three moons pass and Sansa had fallen into a comfortable routine. She wakes up at dawn, breaks her fast with Yara Greyjoy and wonders around the Pyke as if a ghost. She mindless sews in her solar, she occasionally writes to Arya, never telling her where she is but that she is alright, and at sunset she goes to the cliffs and stares at the sun until it hides beyond the horizon.  
  
Long gone is the Sansa of yesterday. She is as beautiful as ever, pale skin, rosy cheeks, plush lips, hair brighter than ever. Her long hair braided simply into a plait, she wears a simple grey with white gown, with discreet direwolf sown on her chest.  
  
Sansa has no need for intricate hairstyles anymore, no need for over-the-top gowns, she has grown tired of them. All she wants is peace. All she wants is to be whole again, to at least as whole as it can be.  
  
She did not neglect her duty of Lady of Winterfell, she left it the capable hands of Samwell Tarly. She trusts him, as Jon trust him.  
  
Jon she thinks, it still hurts to think about him. Her belly pulls and her heart begins to at an erratical pace every time she thinks of him.  How much she misses him, how much it hurts to miss him.  
  
Every time she closes her eyes she sees him, his brilliant smile, his unruly yet-black curly hair, the softness of his eyes. She is in love with beyond repair, beyond herself. It breaks her heart that her love is unrequited. That the only person whom she has ever loved is the same person who pushed her away so many times.  
  
Tears begin to roll down her face, again. Tears of grief of what she has lost, of what she never had.  
  
She heads to the cliffs, the sun has begun to set. It is the only respite she has. Her demons leave her for those few moments, it is her only peace.  
  
* * * * * * * * *  
Jon, Davos and a small group of trusted Northern soldier reach Riverrun. She has to be here, Jon thinks, its the only place she has left. Her uncle surely would have received her.  
  
Lord Edmure Tully greets Jon and company at the gate, “You your grace, welcome. Please come in.” He says with a smile.  
  
There are no banquets as requested by Jon, his sole purpose is to find Sansa and beg her, beg her, to forgive him, to love him.  
  
Lord Edmure leads the group to the great hall, a small supper is served with wine and ale flowing freely.  
  
The soldiers that accompany them are shown their quarters and Jon, Ser Davos and Edmure Tully are alone.  
  
“Sansa is not here your grace. I have not seen or heard of her in many moons.” Edmure tells Jon with contrited voice.  
  
Jon exhales, closing his eyes, pained at the Tully’s word.  
  
“I have searched for her wide and large, and no one has seen her, no one knows where she is,” he says in a desperate voice.  
  
“I am going mad, here, I am dying.” Jon says in the most heartbreaking voice.  
  
He looks at Lord Edmure, with pained eyes and says, “I love her. I love her not as a brother, not as cousin, but as man loves a woman.”  
  
Lord Edmure looks at him with sorrow in his eyes, “She has suffered more than any girl her age could ever bare. She is strong and resilient like her mother, my dear sister Catelyn,” “But she is also fragile. She had to fight tooth and nail in Kings Landing, when she was held hostage by those Lannister bastards. She deserved peace, she deserves happiness.” Lord Tully says with the compassion of a father.  
  
“If what you say is true, if you really love her, don’t give up. You will find her, and when you don’t let her go.” He says.  
  
Jon take his words to heart and says “Thank you Lord Tully, I did not think that you would help me.”  
  
“Don’t thank me just yet.” Lord Edmure says with a twinkle in his eyes. He looks at the a shut door that must lead to the chambers and says “Ser Brienne, please come out.”  
  
Jon jumps out of his seat when he sees Ser Brienne come through the door. He almost hope that an auburn head follows her, but she is not here, he realizes. His face falls in disappointment.  
  
“My Lord, your Grace” Brienne bows.  
  
Jon looks at her as if he’s just witness a miracle, his heart being to loudly thump, he is sure everyone can hear it. He walks closer to the Knight and says the word he begs she has an answer to “Where is she?”.  
  
 * * * * * * * *    
  
Jon is on the deck of the ship that Yara Greyjoy has provided him with. Ser Brienne and Ser Davos accompany him, the Northern soldier had left for home.  
  
Jon is peacefully looking out into the sea, he closes his eyes, allows the breeze to play with his untied hair, to caress his scared face, to bring peace to him. He smells the purity of the sea, it cleans his mind, it sweeps away his pain. He is coming home, coming to her.  
  
He feels her in his bones, hears her voice, he can almost smell her scent.  
  
Once they dock at port, a trio of horse are waiting for them, and with them Yara Greyjoy.  
  
Jon is dressed in his full Northern armor, he still wears the cloak Sansa gave him so long ago.  
  
“Your grace, about time you finally showed up.” She says with a smile plaster on her face.  
  
He gives her an embarrassed look and nods. “Thank you for everything” he beings.  
  
Yara stops him ands says “I didn’t do for you, you know.” “Sansa is is one of kind, and Theon loved her. I did it for him, in his memory.” She says with an edge.  
“I understand” Jon asserts, itching to ask “Where is she?”  
  
“It’s almost sunset, she will be by the cliffs. If you’re fast enough, you might still catch her.”  
  
Without a word, Jon hops on to the closest horse and rides hard to where the cliffs are.  
  
Ser Davos and Brienne stay behind.  
  
It takes moments for Jon to reach the cliffs. He unmounts the horse and is looking out, searching for her.  
  
He sees her, at the edge of the cliff, standing, looking out of the horizon, her hair a beacon, leading him to her.  
  
He could cry, he could jump with joy, he could run to her and take her in his arms, but he refrains, afraid of frighting her.  
  
She is a vision, just as beautiful if not more beautiful than ever. Her hair is unbound, moving freely with the wind, she wears the Stark colors. He cant see her face, not yet but he can just imagine her Tully blue eyes, her perfect mouth, her perfect face.  
  
He slowly walks towards her, unlacing his cloak, dropping it on the ground, he removes his Stark gorget and also lets it drop.  
  
He takes off his gloves, unfastens his sword belt and drops them. The grass muffles the sound he makes while removing his armor, muffles his steps.  
  
He almost reaches her and it hits him, the smell of her, the smell of cinnamon mixed with almonds. Gods did he ever miss that smell. It is burned in his head, it intoxicates him. Thrills him.  
  
Jon takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and when he opens them, her to those Tully blues eyes that he so desperately missed, that he desperately loves, staring back at him.  
  
  
* * * * * * * *    
  
Sansa is looking out at the sunset, as she always does, as she will continue to do until she feels at peace to move on. To love Jon a little less.  
  
She closes her eyes, to feel the warmth of the dying day, to feel the gentle caress of the wind on her face. She takes a deep inhale and she smells it. She smells him, pine, and leather. Jon’s aroma.  
  
She must be mad, not only does she see him when she closes her eyes but now she smells him too.  
  
She hears something, she hears muffled steps approaching her, she slightly turns, head over her should and she sees him. Standing there, in the flesh. His eyes are closed, as if praying.  
  
She is stunned, this must be a hallucination but then he opens his eyes and she realizes that she is not crazy, that he really is here, he is right in front of her.  
  
Sansa fully turns around to him. She extends her hands, touching his face, his beard with limber fingers, making sure that it really is him and not her mind playing cruel jokes on her.  
  
Jon holds her hand to his face and kisses the insider of her palm, Sansa still cannot believe it is him, here. He found her.  
  
She cups his face with both hands, looking straight at his eyes, intoxicated by his scent, intoxicated by him.  
  
All the love that she was barely able to tuck away came flooding in as a flood. The pain that she felt washed away the moment she touched him.  
  
There was nothing to say, he was here, for her.  
  
Jon reaches for her and pulls her to him, wrapping his strong arms around her small waste and just crushes her with all his love.  
  
They don’t let go.  
  
“You’re here” She finally says in a whisper, “You’re really here”.    
  
“I am” he says, nuzzling his face on the crook of her neck.  
  
“How?” she asks, “Looking under every rock in Westeros, reaching each and every corner of the Land. Loving you” he says lovingly.  
  
She looks at him so much love, “You love me?” She asks  
  
“I’ve always loved you. I’ve never stopped loving, not for a moment.” Jon tells her cupping her face, looking at her blue eyes with the most sincere look.  
  
“But the Daenerys…” She trails off  
  
“She meant nothing, I swear. All I did was to protect you from her.” He say but he is silenced by a her finger on his mouth.  
  
“It doesn’t matter. You’re here, with me.” She says with tears in her eyes.  
  
He looks at her and says “Im so very my love. For everything.” She looks at him and says “I love you, more than you can imagine, more than life itself. I love you so much it hurts.” she hold him and it feels like nothing can ever hurt her again, as if she is invincible.  
  
“Darling, I love you more than I can bare. These moons without you have been worse than torture, worse than death… I was going mad, Sansa. I need you, I am yours, do whatever you want with me.” He says kneeling before her. “I am yours, heart, body and soul.” he says looking up, searching her face.  
  
She kneels before him, holding his and says “I am yours, do what you want with me. I give myself to you, freely, out of my own volition.” She says between tears.  
  
They look at each other, reading each others face, confessing their unconditional love, forgiving each other.  
  
He reaches for her face and leans in to her, breathing in her scent, letting in run through his body like the most precious poison. He lightly presses his lips on hers. It is as if he has been dead all his life, until this moment. Her lips are the drink of life. Her soft lips slightly move allowing his tongue access.  
  
He deepens the kiss, unable to let her go. She reaches for his hair and pulls gently on it, a moan escaping his mouth. She swallows it reveling in the intoxication of this man. The love her life.  
  
They only part because their treacherous bodies need air.  
  
They get up, foreheads touching, leaning into each other, eyes close, just inhaling each other, silently promising each other their devotion, confessing their undying love.  
  
No words need to be spoken, for they know each other as they know themselves.  
  
The world could be falling and they wouldn’t care, it’s only them, right now, at this moment. It will always be them against the world.  
  
The sun has set, it bathes them in warmth, in safety. It is a sight, Sansa hair is fire, her face bathed in warm colors of orange, pink, reds, she is a vision. Her face is peaceful, tender, lovely.  
  
Jon looks at her as if she a goddess, he worships her, the ground she stands.  
  
He vows that he will never let her go.  
  
“Don’t let go” she whispers.  
  
“Never my love, never.” He says looking at her blue eyes that he would gladly drown in.  
  
He kisses with such passion, he feels life breathing into him. Sansa reciprocates with such fieriness that he fears the will dies in her arms from so much happiness.  
  
Surely it is a sin to be this happy, he thinks.  
  
No this cannot be a sin, this is too pure, to precious.  
  
“Lets go home” Sansa says her cheeks flushed.  
  
“I am home.” Jon tells her, holding her close to him, with a brilliant smile that he reserves only for her.  
  
“Don’t let go, sweetheart” Jon says.  
  
“Never my love. Never”. Sansa lovingly says.  
  
The turn to look at the  sunset, the breeze playing with their hair, the wind carrying with it the happiness radiating from them, intoxicating the lands with love and happiness.  
  
They can worry about tomorrow, later, right now it is just them.  
  
Together forever.


End file.
